


One-Shots

by CameronFoss



Series: The Love of Monsters [4]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Director Sanvers Warmth, Gen, Hanukkah, Jewish Alex Danvers, Jewish Holiday, Kid Fic, Parent Alex Danvers, Post-Episode: s02e15 Exodus, Space Pirate Alex, director sanvers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26560102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CameronFoss/pseuds/CameronFoss
Summary: Collection of assorted one-shots in the Love of Monsters space-pirate Alex AUNow includes Director Sanvers Warmth prompts for the holidays cause they are amazing! Chapter 1 and 3.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Lucy Lane/Maggie Sawyer
Series: The Love of Monsters [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931620
Comments: 66
Kudos: 91





	1. Warmth Prompt: Family is Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by directorsanvers Director Sanvers seasonal event! Mixing Holiday Trauma and Meeting the Extended Family cause I cannot write any semblance of comfort without the hurt.

They’d been together for five years. Five, glorious, chaotic, exciting, terrifying, unbelievably perfect years. And they’d managed to avoid this very situation for all five – seven if you count from when they first got together.

Which shouldn’t be surprising! In Lucy’s thirty-three years, she could count on one hand the number of Christmas’ she’d spent with her father. And have fingers to spare. He was military. _She_ was military. Even when one of them, by some miracle, happened to be stateside, the other wasn’t.

And, for the last five years, one of them happened to be in a polyamorous relationship with two women, one of whom her father had arrested for treason. Twice. So, he’d suddenly had good reason to avoid them wholesale. And as much as that _stung_ , it was probably for the best.

Particularly because Lucy had no idea how the self-proclaimed xenophobe (and quiet homophobe) would react to her adopted queer teenage alien daughter. Probably not well.

And Lucy steadfastly refused to subject Ky to that. Or Alex and Maggie, to be honest. There was enough family drama to go around, and the least she could do was not purposefully inflict _this_ part of hers on them. Lois and Clark were bad enough, but at least Kara shared the blame for dragging _that_ into their lives.

But now.

Now, they had run out of rope.

Lucy was permanently stateside, the only time she even left National City for work was her quarterly Washington meetings, and Vas was going to start taking over a portion of those. There was no ‘good’ reason not to have her father over for Christmas Eve dinner, aside from the fact that _she didn’t want to._ But the phone call really left her limited options.

_“Lucy, I’m only stateside for four days. The least we can do is spend the evening together. And I should… properly meet those people you live with.”_

Live with.

As if she didn’t buy a house with her soon to be wives, a house they painstakingly made theirs; As if Alex didn’t build the entrance ramp over a summer, Lucy providing exactly no assistance as she happily ‘supervised’ from the porch; As if Maggie didn’t cook a Sunday night dinner every week, a tradition specifically designed for when Ky went off to college, something to ensure that she always had a reason to come home for (as if she needed a reason); as if this wasn’t the house that she’d built a life in.

A beautiful life. Filled with love and stupidity and way, way too much destruction. But a happy life. With these people, this family.

“ _Those people you live with.”_

Her family.

Which it was. It _was_. Blood doesn’t make family.

And that goes two ways.

But, even knowing that, her father asking to come over? On a holiday? Even with all the… aggravation in his way of doing so – this was the first time he’d asked to see her for something other than professional reasons in… forever, maybe.

So, Alex and Maggie understood. They’d nodded, with soft smiles and softer eyes, and assured her that it would be fine. They’d clear their schedules – easier now that Maggie was Captain – and make it work.

Cause they knew she couldn’t do this alone. And they would never ask her to.

But Ky.

Ky.

Lucy wasn’t even sure what the best course of action was. She’d looked to Alex for answers, but she’d unhelpfully shrugged.

“ _Luce, you should just ask her – she’s pretty much an adult-“_

_“Pretty much?”_

_“Shut up Sawyer, she’s my baby – anyway, you should just ask her. She’ll tell you what she’s comfortable with. And it’s not like she’d be alone – worst case scenario, she crashes Lena and Kara’s night.”_

_“Cramping your sister’s game, Danvers?”_

_“Oh, she more than owes us – how many times have our date nights been interrupted with a Lena ‘emergency’?”_

So, she’d taken a deep breath and approached the 19-year-old’s room. She was a grown ass woman. It only took, like, two minutes to get up the courage to knock.

“Come in!”

Pushing open the door, she smiled instinctively. Ky, bent over… something. Small and mechanical, side lamp trained on it, soldering iron suspended in mid-air. If you shrunk her a couple of inches, removed the _National City Hawks_ baseball tank and lost the tattoo, she’d be the same snarky teenager she’d met all those years ago. Except, she would have tried to hide the (probably highly illegal) tech.

She must have been silent too long. Also, the affectionate look in her eye was a little strange. So, Ky arched an eyebrow, placed the dangerous tool down and gave the woman her full attention. “What’s up?”

“I have to talk to you about something,” she stepped into the room, closing the door at Ky’s consenting nod.

“Sure,” she waved at the trunk pressed against the end of her bed for her to sit, so they could face each other. Lucy did as instructed, eyes traced the _Major Lane_ still imprinted in bold letters on the top – Ky had softly explained that the _reason_ she asked for the weird piece of furniture after the move was because of the engraving.

She was _proud_ of her parents, and everything they’d all accomplished. It was the same reason that Ky had a photo of Maggie’s swearing in ceremony framed and on the wall. Right next to the newspaper clipping about the L-Crop Exodus clinic. She’d, very typically, rolled her eyes at Lucy’s protests, and argued (quite effectively) that operating Secret Government Black Sites doesn’t come with the same public notoriety – so the trunk was perfect.

“Ah, Lucy?” Ky tilted her head. “Something the matter?”

“Kinda,” she winced. “But also, not really. Look,” she flexed her hands in her lap, looking her daughter in the eye. “I know we normally do a low-key Christmas Eve at home, just the four of us, but um… my father has asked to come for dinner. Instead.”

“Oh,” Ky blinked, forehead pinching. “Are you okay with that?”

“Am _I…?”_ Lucy huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, and muttered under her breath _“you are your mother’s daughter, I swear to God_.” Dropping her fingers, she took a deep breath and reoriented. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into attending, you know my father is…”

“Difficult?”

“I was gonna say xenophobic, but that’s more diplomatic,” Ky grinned and nodded back. “Regardless, it’s probably going to be a tense evening. Maybe even upsetting. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to come. But I _also_ don’t want you to feel like you’re being kicked out of your own home on Christmas Eve and-“

Ky leaned forward, waving a hand in front of her face to get her cut her off from her imminent spiral. “Lucy, I don’t feel pressured or upset or anything. He’s your dad – I know it’s complicated. I’m happy to be there.”

She eyed the teenager wearily, aware that ‘suffer in silence’ was a Danvers family trait. “Are you sure?”

The eyeroll, strangely, set the Director at ease. “Yeah, I’m sure. I can handle General Lane. And if I can’t,” she continued quickly, causing Lucy to click her mouth shut. “Then I’ll let you know. Same as always – if I have to leave, I’ll tap out.”

“No questions asked,” Lucy affirmed – the tradition she’d started with Ky all those years ago, at an explosive dinner with Eliza. A constant ever since.

“And, anyway,” Ky leaned back in her chair, a little bit of a smirk forming. “I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

“Oh?”

“I mean,” she twirled her hand in the air. “Haven’t Ma and Maggie both like… threaten his life or something?”

“I mean… _yeah_ ,” Lucy narrowed her eyes, realising the point. “But they wouldn’t actually… do it?”

“Um,” Ky squinted, head tilting to the side. “Are you new?”

[…]

Alex took the least time to get dressed, so she was relegated to the final shower of the afternoon. Also, the coldest shower of the afternoon. But four years using recycled water really puts in perspective a lukewarm shower. So, she happily took the spot. But she made sure to share a _look_ with Maggie as they swapped, which put Maggie on notice.

Things were not going well in the bedroom.

“Lane?” She stepped over to the woman currently standing just inside the walk in. Arms crossed, face blank. Concerning. “You okay there?”

“Yes,” stiff. Just like her spine. This was as close to _military_ as Maggie had really seen her, _especially_ outside of work.

Approaching with caution, she peaked over her shoulder. Nothing but their unevenly split closet to look at, as far as she could tell. “Trying to decide what to wear?”

“Yes.”

“O-kay,” she skirted around the woman, careful not to touch. Not yet. “Luce?” She ducked her head, forcing green eyes to meet brown. “What’s goin’ on? What’re you thinking?”

Her jaw ticked, eyes skirting the small space again. But she couldn’t articulate her scattered, ridiculous thoughts. Thoughts of over-performing her femininity in the face of her father’s judgement, of wearing a dress, but making sure it was appropriately conservative. Of avoiding wearing the heels that made her taller than Maggie, of putting on more makeup than she’d normally be bothered with when not leaving the house. As if there was any amount of _clothing_ or _makeup_ that would undo the fact that she lived with her two female fiancés. As if any amount of hiding behind a mask would undo the fact that the _moment,_ she met Alex Danvers, she was on a road to losing her father once and for all.

“Luce?” Maggie’s fingers found the edge of her jaw, just soft enough not to startle, but hard enough that the phantom touch wouldn’t hum across her skin unpleasantly.

She blinked, focusing on her partners face. Her expression. The dimple that was visible through her frown. “Yeah, sorry,” she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them with renewed focus. “I just gotta pick something. Doesn’t matter.”

“Well,” her smile made Lucy’s stomach _swoop_ , taking her breath away and momentarily distracting her from her internal spiral. “I vote for the green dress you wore to Lena’s thing.”

Lucy arched an eyebrow. “You mean the _backless_ one?”

Maggie’s faux innocent look had her snorting before she even spoke. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed.”

“You two have one track minds,” but were _very_ good at distracting her from a slump. “Okay, let’s just get this over with.”

She ended up not going with a dress – the idea of performing any kind of expectation for her father riling the contrarian the army had tried to beat out of her (unsuccessfully). So, simply blouse, nice pants. Maggie seemed to follow suit, though her tucked red and green plaid shirt was that side of formal, Lucy couldn’t help but grin at the sight.

Slipping her fingers into her belt-loops, belt tossed onto the bed while she tugged on her boots, Lucy tugged her over for a slow, soft kiss. Breaking away, she didn’t go far, resting her head against the soft fabric on her shoulder. And just… standing there. Maggie’s arms tucked around her waist, holding her close. Time ticking away from them. 

“Hey,” she hadn’t even heard Alex approach – even three years out of the DEO she had yet to shirk her secret agent habits. Lucy, who didn’t remove her head from Maggie’s shoulder, felt herself relax another notch at the feel of Alex’s hand pressing between her shoulder blades, a soft kiss pressed against her still-to-be-done hair. “You two okay?”

“Yeah Danvers,” Maggie’s cheek pressed against the side of her head, smiling up at towel-dressed woman. “We’re good – get dressed.”

She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like there was a smile in Alex voice. “Any preference?”

Lucy responded, still not pulling away from the safe haven she’d found between her girls. “Anything but your Exodus formals, and I think you’ll be fine.”

“What, you don’t think he’d be impressed by my cape?”

“You _hate_ that cape,” Maggie reminded her, chest vibrating with her chuckle.

“No cape, got it,” and then there was a final kiss being pressed to her head, another to Maggie’s lips, and Alex was slipping into the closet.

Just as Lucy was about to pull herself away from the protective warmth and face the music, Maggie’s arms tightened, hot breath wafting over her ear as she whispered. “You got this Lane. And we got you.”

[…]

Lucy was a little bit surprised by how calm everyone was being. Even over-protective Danvers who _hated_ her father seemed to be holding it together. Mostly by bugging Ky into helping and then just… bugging Ky because it was fun.

“Luce,” Maggie closed the oven and discarded her mitts, turning to Lucy’s very still form at the edge of the kitchen. “You want a drink?”

Yes. Please. Three fingers of the stuff that they haven’t kept in this house since they moved in. That. _That_ is what she wanted.

The only alcohol ever stocked was Maggie’s beer, the Exodus ‘beer’ and Lena approved wine. But Lucy knew Maggie had picked up her father’s favourite whiskey, and it was probably still sitting in her truck in the garage in preparation for tonight. But Alex was standing less than four meters away, straightening Ky’s shirt around swatting fingers.

“Luce?” She jumped at the sudden closeness, too busy staring at the ridiculous pair trying to pretend to be useful. “Alex won’t mind.”

No. She wouldn’t. She’d probably not even look twice.

Didn’t mean it wouldn’t be egregiously unfair. And Lucy didn’t need to add guilt to the myriad of confusing emotions clogging up her throat.

“Wine would be fine.” Maggie didn’t ask a second time, but she did hesitate, tilting her head with raised eyebrows. “I promise – I’ll be fine.”

Probably.

How bad could it be?

Well, it didn’t start off great.

“Lucy,” her father had a way of making his voice totally void of emotion. Zero affection, but also zero discomfort. Like this situation was a meeting at the pentagon, not his not-quite-estranged daughters house. He handed over a twenty-one-year-old Glenfiddich. Her favourite. Alex’s too. “Thank you, for having me.”

Not quite the warm fatherly greeting others probably expected, but on-brand for them. Especially after their last… blow up. “Dad, come in.”

“Your house is lovely,” it sounded like an automatic response. The kind of thing you just _said_ because it was polite. But Lucy found her brain sticking on _house._ A home – this was a _home_. Not that Sam Lane had ever had one for himself.

“It is,” she nodded, closing the door behind him. “We’re still doing renovations on the studio out back.”

“Haven’t you been here for two years?”

Swallowing her bite, Lucy nodded, taking his coat and tucking it into the hallway closet. “Yeah, but Alex and Maggie have been doing all the work themselves. Takes more time, with our schedules.”

“Oh,” his shoulders flexed – the only tell that he was uncomfortable. “I didn’t realise they were qualified to do that.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Sir,” Maggie, appearing around the corner with an almost smile. “I grew up in solid farm country. ‘Hiring a guy’ was practically blasphemous.”

If at all possible, he got stiffer. As if he was somehow unaware that her partners who _lived here_ would _be here_. “Maggie, thank you for having me.”

He’d already done that dance, and Lucy was officially getting twitchy. “Alright, well,” she smiled at Maggie with more plastic than she’d intended. “Dinner’s almost ready. Let’s,” she jerked the bottle towards the living, out of the entrance hall.

“Of course,” Maggie stepped out of the way, catching Lucy’s wrist just briefly as she passed. It gave more comfort then should be possible for such a small gesture.

The living room, much to Lucy’s enjoyment, looked like Christmas threw up in it. She’d _known_ without having to ask, that the Danvers went all out for the holidays. As low-key and intimate as Hannukah was every year was equal to how outrageous Christmas was.

It hadn’t helped that Kara crashed every year and _insisted_ on helping with the decorations.

It was like a winter freaken wonderland.

The tree, the stockings, the artificial snow on the windows. And, every. Single. Archway. Had mistletoe hanging, much to Ky’s (mock) horror, only worsened when Maggie dragged the alien underneath and planted a wet kiss on her cheek, heart warming as the teenager squirmed, but didn’t escape.

It was glorious, and the exact opposite of Christmas at the Lane household. As far as Lucy could remember, they hadn’t even put up a tree after her mother died. The only real memory Lucy had of Christmas Eve was when she was maybe seven, and she snuck into Lois room because the house was freezing, and all she wanted was her big sister. Her big sister who had already snuck out to hang out with the older kids on the base – so Lucy fell asleep in a too big bed. Alone.

Taking a sharp breath, she shook old memories from her mind and turned the corner into the living space. Alex was standing just in from the entrance way with Ky half a step behind. Her smile was formal – the one she used at Exodus Ltd meetings – arms locked behind her back. “General Lane,” she greeted with a tip of her head.

A pause, where Lucy could practically feel her father swallowing his initial response. Something probably along the lines of _Captain_ , with that derogatory edge he was so capable of enacting. “Danvers,” he responded. And, honestly? That was a better greeting than Lucy had expected. Then his eyes found the final occupant, whose hands were dug into pockets and eyes were _just slightly_ narrow. “And who is this?”

Taking another deep breath (one of many this evening) she placed the bottle off to the side and stepped around her father, closer to her kid. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Ky.” She gestured at the teenager, who actually took a hand out of her pockets to do a short (incredibly awkward) wave. “Our daughter.”

There was a pause.

It’s not like he didn’t know about Ky. He’d read Alex’s file during the Daxamite incident – he knew that the Captain had adopted an alien while on board and had adopted her officially upon her return. He didn’t know she was a Martian (so classified that it had yet to be _written down_ anywhere), or that she was training with Kara two days a week.

He didn’t know that she’d become _our daughter_ , from the looks of things either.

His face only spasmed for a split second before it smoothed into his famous poker face.

Ky’s eyes narrowed another notch.

Lucy didn’t need to be a telepath to see what her father was thinking.

“Well, Ky,” he spoke carefully, not even trying to force a smile. “It’s… nice to meet you.”

And because this was _Ky_ , she dragged something in the neighbourhood of a smile across her face. More menacing than happy though, and he stiffened. “I’m sure.” Which, not ideal, but Lucy didn’t really blame her.

“So,” Maggie clapped her hands, snapping everyone from their stalemate of tension. “Dinner. How ‘bout everyone grab a seat?” It _would_ be much harder for murder to occur if they were sitting down.

“I’ll give you a hand,” and Ky was disappearing into the kitchen with Maggie, leaving Alex and General Lane to stare each other down.

“Dad,” she placed a hand against the back of his arm, slight pressure ending his staring match. “Take the head,” not because he _should_ but because that was the only spot that enabled Lucy to keep Alex and Ky at least one person away from the man. Maggie she’d just have to trust to not stab him. 

“So,” he settled, eyeing Alex across her. Her fists clenched so hard the tension ran up her forearm. Under the table, Alex’s hand pressed against her thigh. “Danvers. I hear you’ve been renovating?”

“Yes Sir,” the title sounded strange out of Alex’s mouth. Much too polite given Alex was the reason he almost lost his stars.

“That how you’ve been filling your time since your discharge?”

Lucy’s knee started to bounce; the one Alex’s wasn’t running her hand along.

“Well, that and the clinic.”

“That’s right,” his lip pulled at one side. “That alien center that you and Luthor opened.”

“The one and only,” Alex smiled at the water Maggie appeared to press into her hand. “It keeps me pretty busy.”

“I’m sure,” his smile stiffened. Just enough that Lucy could see. “So, you work as an alien doctor?”

“Mostly,” she tipped her head to either side, fingers scratching at Lucy’s thigh soothingly. “Though, more and more of my patients are half human. And the maternity wing we’re adding next year will hopefully include more focused assistance for human’s carrying an alien partners child.”

The General swirled his glass, a single eyebrow raising sceptically. “Is that really so common?”

Alex shrugged, and if Lucy didn’t have anxiety crawling up her throat, she’d be impressed by how _calm_ Alex-hand-me-the-wrench-Danvers was remaining in the face of this line of questioning. “You’d be surprised.”

“I think I would,” he actually almost smiled at Maggie when she handed him a glass of Glenfiddich. She paused long enough at the table to raise an eyebrow at question towards Lucy, who gave the smallest of nods. One glass would keep the edge off, and prevent her father asking too many questions. “You should join us,” he raised his glass at Alex. And Lucy _knew_ , knew that he didn’t actually mean for that to be as insensitive as it was.

He had no way of knowing what he was saying, which is why her girlfriend just smiled, shaking her head a little. “I’m good but thank you.” Lucy could _hear_ him thinking about how that showed weakness.

And in the silence that they let sit, the chatter of Ky and Maggie in the kitchen filled the space. Rapid fire Spanish – so rapid that Alex couldn’t really keep up, even with her chip. By the time she translated, they’d already moved on. Which really wasn’t the appeal to either her or Lucy – just the sound of them muttering in Maggie’s first language was enough to warm their hearts.

And enough for Sam Lane to finally crack a frown that so readily belonged on his face.

But before he could say anything, before he could snap the already cracked foundation so of this ridiculous get together, Lucy was asking about his next deployment. About the new policy’s that they were implementing across the board in intelligence services. About literally anything that didn’t involve the racist xenophobic garbage she could _feel_ simmering under the surface.

She would _not_ allow him to taint the warmth of her home.

Dinner being served, thankfully, gave them something less loaded to focus on. Food was at least something they could all agree on.

“Maggie,” Lucy was pretty sure that if Alex took her hand away, she’d be shaking the table with how hard her leg was vibrating. Every time her father started a sentence, she could _feel_ her blood pressure rising. “This is really amazing,” he waved his glass at the spread. “You can certainly cook.” A _compliment_? “Do you do all of the cooking?” Mixed with some weird heteronormative stereotype? About right.

“Ah, most?” She tipped her head to the side, smirking at her partners across from. “These two _can_ , just aren’t very enthused by the idea. And Alex still acts like she’s feeding an army.”

A shrug. “Still edible.”

“I mean, technically?” Ky waved her fork at her mother. “But so is tree bark and no one is lining up for that either.”

Alex narrowed her eyes but smiled. “Rude.”

He leaned forward, for the first time actually looking at the teenager – her speaking apparently reminding him that she was at the tabe. “Ky, what are your plans for the rest of the winter break?”

And because telling him that training to be a superhero with her aunt and building military grade tech in the garage with Ella was off the table, she kind of just shrugged. “I start the Winter Quarter at Stanford in a couple weeks,” a shrug. “So, I’ll mostly be packing.”

“You didn’t start in Autumn?”

For the first time, Alex shifted, fingers pausing in their soothing motions. This was a touchy as fuck subject her father was treading all over.

“Nah, wanted some time between high school and college.”

The General glanced around the table, squinting. “I was under the impression you were nineteen?”

Ky paused. Alex’s hand flexed. “Yep.”

“So, didn’t you graduate last year?”

“Ah, nope,” she glanced at her Ma, feeling the heat in the room notch up without the fireplace being adjusted. “I was held back when I started school on Earth – I’m a year older than my cohort.”

“Mmmmm,” he glanced at his daughter, and Lucy felt her own heckles rise.

The sound of Ky’s fork clattering to her plate sent sparks throughout the table, drawing everyone’s eyes. She was staring down, jaw clenched so hard _Lucy_ could feel her teeth grinding.

Maggie turned, placing a hand on the back of her chair. “KD?”

By Ky just shook her head, nose twitching with the force of her frown.

It was the tilt of her head that gave her away – ear turned towards the table, away from General Lane and his very, very loud thoughts.

Alex placed her hand on the table between them, voice softening. “Ky?”

But the teenager just shook her head, breathing deep and slow, just like Freyer taught her. When that didn’t work, she closed her eyes against the inevitable flaring red.

Alex and Maggie were so focused on Ky, they missed what Lucy saw. The slight eyeroll, a long sip of his drink, the way his eyes wandered away from the scene.

“Dad,” her voice was forced, her jaw barely cooperating. “Whatever it is your thinking, I’d be very careful.”

His eyes locked on her, flicked to the unfolding scene, then snapped back. Awareness flaring in his eyes, shoulder tensing.

“Lucy,” Ky’s strained, forced voice had to turning back around, heart clenching. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to. Just like every other time something like this had happened. _If you’re uncomfortable or have to leave, just look at me and we’ll find somewhere less intense to be, alright? No questions asked._

“It’s okay – Go,” she nodded, giving the teenager the permission she needed to abandon this situation. She pushed back from the table, eyes down. “Alex,” she nodded after the teenager.

And that left Maggie, Lucy and the suddenly most unwelcome guest on the planet.

“So, she’s a mind reader then?” Except his voice contained no apology – just irritation. Like the teenage alien was somehow in the wrong. 

“She is,” and that was the absolute maximum information he’d be getting about her species. “And whatever it was that you just said-“ his scoff was designed to cut her off but she ploughed through. “That upset her better not be along the lines of what I’m thinking.”

“Lucy, you can hardly expect me to sensor my _thoughts_ -“

“You shouldn’t need to,” she took a breath, pressing her hands together, thumbs digging into her nose. Maggie, still across from her watched carefully. Ready to intervene if necessary. “You _shouldn’t_ be having xenophobic, elitist or racist thoughts at a dinner table with your daughter, her partners and their kid – _especially_ when one happens to be an adopted alien of colour.”

Another scoff. She dropped her hands against the table. Hard. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Yeah, well,” she shook her head, finally fixing blazing eyes on his. “Life’s not really fair is it? You shouldn’t be meeting my kid for the first time this late in the game. You shouldn’t have had to ask for the address to the home I’ve lived in for years. And you know what,” she exhaled, hard and stood. “You shouldn’t be here at all.”

“Luce-“

“No, don’t,” she looked away, feeling two sets of eyes watching her. One softening at the gathering tears she was trying to swallow down. “Just… don’t. I’m not going to let you come in here at the eleventh hour and set a bomb off in my life, in my family’s lives, out of some misplaced desire to _reconnect.”_

Something flickered in his eyes. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something like… regret? But she couldn’t engage with that – trust that.

“You haven’t changed. And, honestly, I don’t think you can. So, I need to stop waiting around for it to happen.” She pressed her fist against the table, looking down on the man who had done nothing but hurt her for years. “I’d like you to go. I have to check on my daughter.”

They started at each other for a long minute. He opened his mouth, just once, and then, after a moment of no sound, clicked it shut, shaking his head.

“If that’s what you want,” and then he calmly stood from the table, and let himself out of her home.

By the time her façade crumbled, Maggie’s arms were already wrapping around her. Necessary, because her knees buckled under the weight of it all. Fortunately, Maggie was strong enough to hold them both up, leaning against the table, she pulled her to stand between her legs, tucking her head under her chin. Letting her soak her flannel and shake until she’d run out of energy. Hiccupping sobs fading into harsh breathing, vice grip on her shirt softening into a gentler hold.

“There you go,” Maggie’s voice was soothing against her ears – the contrast with her violent cries taking the edge off her agony. “Just breathe babe, I got you. Just breathe,” she must have been talking the entire time. Her hand not pressed to the back of her head was drifting up and down her spine – easing the tension from the muscles. Calming the raging storm in her chest.

She pulled back just enough to press her forehead against the centre of her chest, fingers not leaving her sides. “I have to check on Ky.”

“Alex’s got her,” fingers carded through her hair, pulling strands from her wet cheeks. “It can wait another minute.”

“I want to hate him.”

“I know.”

And there really wasn’t much else to say.

But at least, right now, Maggie was here, and Alex was there, and everything would be okay. Cause blood didn’t make family, and the family Lucy chose? They were stronger for it. 

[…]

Lucy leaned her head against the side of the bedroom door, smiling as soft as she could manage. “Hey you.”

“Hey back,” Ky’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was something in her posture; the way she was curled forward a touch, even leaning against her headboard; The way her knees were bent, feet pressing against the bed. Protective.

She took a hesitant step into the bedroom. “Mind if we talk a minute?” And _only_ when she nodded did Lucy step away from the door, closing it gently behind her. “How are you doin’?”

Shifting a little to give Lucy space to join her leaning against the headboard, Ky shrugged with a wince. “Fine.”

“Do you… want me to pretend to believe that?”

Her lip twitched. Something loosened in Lucy’s chest. “Nah, I guess not.”

“Did you talk to Alex?”

“A little,” glancing at Lucy out of the corner of her eye, she seemed to hesitate. Overthink. “But I, ah… I’d rather talk to you? If that’s okay.”

She tried to keep the surprise out of her voice. “Really?”

“I mean, Ma’s good with the emotional talk stuff, don’t get me wrong,” she worried the hem of her sleeve. “But, I guess, I didn’t wanna talk about your dad behind your back?”

“Hey, no,” she turned her body a little, waiting for dark eyes to meet hers. “You’re allowed to have your own feelings about what just happened – you aren’t _betraying_ me or anything like that by talking about how it affected you, okay?” She dipped her head, maintaining eye contact with the reluctant teenager.

“…Okay,” not very convincing but the best you could get out of a Danvers on a bad day.

“Do you wanna talk about what he said?”

“Thought,” the correction was automatic. The same correction Ky had made every time someone accidentally let their thoughts slip – like she was justifying their behaviour on their behalf.

“Still hurt you,” she touched her fingers to a ticking jaw. “Still matters. But you only have to talk about it if you’re comfortable.”

Soft green eyes watched whiskey ones. Until, finally, Ky winced and nodded. Accepting that Lucy was only there to help – to support her.

“He,” she looked away. “He, ah, thought something along the lines of,” [translation: exactly what he thought was] “Good thing she’s not taken our name,” her jaw ticked, chin trembling just a touch. “Can’t have another Lane tainting our image.”

Which… could mean either her or Lois, depending on the context. But fuck. Okay. That _stung_. But it was _nothing_ compared to the implications for Ky.

Taking a steadying breath, Lucy turned fully, carefully reaching over and placing a palm against Ky’s face, pulling her around to look full at her. “Ky, I’m gonna say some stuff, and it’s gonna be real emotional, and gooey, so you gotta bear with me okay?” Brown eyes glistened, but she didn’t stop her. “I am so, endlessly, proud of you,” a tear escaped immediately, whole jaw trembling against the reaction. Lucy ran a thumb across the side of her nose, catching it with the gentlest of smiles. “You are an incredibly smart, talented, brave, _good_ kid, and I am _lucky_ to call you my daughter.” She tipped her head forward, just a touch, just enough that their foreheads brushed. More tears escaped, but Lucy didn’t bother stopping them, just held her there.

“I’m sorry I got between you and your dad.”

“Hey, no,” she pulled away, fingers pressing against the soft skin where her jaw ended. “ _You_ didn’t do anything – he did. _You’re_ the family I choose, Ky. Nothing he says or does will change that. And I am so, unbelievably happy you let me into your life.”

Dark eyes danced away, jaw now ticking in embarrassment. “Luce…”

“I _told you_ to bear with me, didn’t I?” She smiled around her own tears, leaning away just enough to tuck loose hair away. Her palm returned to her check though, thumb tracing under her eye in affection. “You are a sarcastic little shit, and I love you.” The familiar words pulled an immediate smile to the teenagers lips – enough that the vice around Lucy’s heart came undone – flooding her chest with swarming warmth. “Nothing changes that.”

“Okay,” a nod. “Okay, I know.”

“I know you know – doesn’t hurt to remind a person every once and a while though.”

“In that case,” Ky narrowed her eyes, serious with an edge of humour. A unique combo the alien had been perfecting for years. “I love you too Lucy. And I’m lucky to have you as a mom.”

Which, to this day, three years after hearing that word for the first time, still made Lucy grin – butterflies escaping in her chest. She didn’t even try and tamp it down.

“I ah,” a little awkwardness re-entered Ky’s, and Lucy refocused from the distracted happy feelings. “I have a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What happens when you guys get married?”

Her head tilted. “What do’ya mean?”

“I mean, are you guys taking someone’s name?” she glanced at the door. “I mean… I know Ma’s part isn’t _legally_ marriage, or whatever, but like, is she going to take one of your names, or something?” A longer pause, where Lucy’s processed sudden anxiety in Ky’s eyes. “Which, like, I _get_. I know Ma has a whole thing with her parents – I know that she might want to, like, separate herself from-“

“Ky,” super rude to interrupt, but Lucy’s mind had whirled to a start, unwilling to watch her kid spin herself into a darker spot. She could practically _see_ the insecurity in her eyes, and she was _kicking_ herself about not including the teenager in that particular discussion. “Your mom isn’t changing her name, kid, don’t worry. She’ll always be a Danvers – just like Kara, and eventually Lena. And it’s got nothing to do with Jeremiah and Eliza, and everything to do with the fact that Kara and Alex are _the_ team, and they’ve made that family name mean something really special.”

Ky nodded, a little anxiety draining from her expression. “Okay, ah, good.”

Lucy took a breath and moved her hand, tipping Ky’s jaw back towards her. “But, we, me and Maggie, were thinking about taking _your_ family name.”

Ky blinked, hard. “Wait, what?”

“I mean – we’d both probably keep our names professionally?” she titled her head, thinking about logistics and continuity. “But yeah, we’d like to be Danvers’, if you’ll have us?”

“If I’ll…” Ky blinked again, startled into silence. A rarity in deed.

“It’s _your_ family Ky,” she smiled, taking in confused eyes with soft ones. “You, Alex and Kara against the world, yeah? So, yeah, it’s _your_ family. But we’d be _honoured_ be a part of it.”

“Oh, um,” she nodded. Jerky and awkward and _adorable_ with wide shining eyes. “I’m okay with it. I’d actually,” she cleared her throat and looked away. “I’d actually really like that.”

“Well, good,” she finally released her jaw, watching how the teenager’s discomfort grew at the firmly _emotional_ territory. After a moment, she decided to throw her a bone, break the tension a little. “So,” she knocked on the wall behind them, the stars laid out in intricate detail. Just like every bedroom Ky had ever had to herself. “You gonna break every dorm rule known to man and paint this on your next bedroom wall?”

A shrug, a secret smile. “Nah,” she glanced at Lucy through the corner of her eye. “I think I’ll leave it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she glanced over her shoulder, smiling at the evidence of a weekend spent with her family. Lucy and Alex distracting each other, Maggie _trying_ to help. “This is my home.”

* * *

The next day – Christmas Day – was a very different day.

They were situated midway between everyone’s homes, plus they had the space to host their… truly, ridiculously, large family.

Kara and Lena always arrived first, one of them decked out in a ridiculous Christmas sweater (and no, it’s not the one you think). Then Winn and J’onn would arrive, James with them if he hadn’t managed to get home for the holidays. Ruby and Sam normally rushed in, always late, but always bearing food and gifts – Ruby particularly thrilled this year, as she’d been away at college without her best friend. Finally, whatever Exodus crew was Earth-bound would normally make an appearance, though many didn’t really grasp this “celebration of large tree murders” (according to Vik) but, still, they tried. Ella even wore the Christmas sweater Kara gave her, to Winn’s absolute pleasure.

It was pleasant as all hell – filled with family and love – enough that it washed away the taste of the previous evening.

But what really made the day for Lucy? Christmas morning. Eventually, they’d all wake up. This was the first year that Kara hadn’t crashed through their front door at the crack of dawn (thank you Lena) so, they actually managed a slow wake up. No over-excited Kryptonian puppy knocking on their bedroom door. Eventually, they’d all make their way downstairs. The adults would make breakfast, starting with two coffees (Lucy and Alex) and two hot chocolates (Maggie and Ky). After food had been consumed, they’d gather on the couches, sipping hot drink’s while passing around the gifts by and for those present. They’d play Christmas music and Alex would pull Maggie against her chest while Lucy shoved Ky over so they could share the love seat. 

But before all that? The triad had to get out of bed.

Lucy stirred first, framed by both of her partners. Unusual, but she was thrilled. It gave her the time and space to admire her life. Alex on her side, paralleling her own position. One real arm thrown over her hip, fingers curling around her shirt at her stomach. Her nose was buried in her hair, the heat of her chest soaking into her back, which explained why she’d kicked the covers off all of them (there was a reason Alex slept in the middle).

Maggie was in front, facing her but not quiet touching. Her face was gentle in sleep, relaxed. The calm peace was the sacrifice made for the lack of visible dimples, and it still made her smile in reflex. Affectionate warmth spreading in her veins, making it very difficult not to reach over and touch.

Suddenly, Alex shifted behind her, arm tightening her hold over her stomach. “Go back to sleep, Luce.” Her voice was sleep slurred, but the whispers made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“I am asleep,” she whispered back, tipping her head so she wasn’t directly facing Maggie.

Alex’s small laugh vibrated against her spine and sent sparks of happiness along her skin. “We don’t have to be up for another hour.”

“And you want to waste that time _sleeping_?” Lucy rolled a little in her arms, Alex leaning back to accommodate. “Who are you and what have you done with my fiancé?”

Alex chuckled, still blinking her real eye to try and focus on the suddenly closer face. “We’re about to be bombarded with a solid day of non-stop family time – you don’t want to rest before that?” Because, she’d struggled to get to sleep the night before – tossing and turning until Alex had gotten out of bed and nudged her into the middle, sensing that the extra ‘walls’ would help settle her anxious partner.

“Sleep is for the weak,” and then she was dragging a hand along short hair, fingers finding purchase on the back of her head, and pulling. It started slow, soft. Rhythm building with each stolen breath, Alex’s hand slipping under her sleep shirt, dragging along the small of her back, skin erupting in her wake. 

“You two have no self-control,” Maggie. But it was murmured into the nape of Lucy’s neck, thus severely undermining her message.

Bracketed by her two of her favourite people, soft light filtering through the gap left in the curtains. Warm. Safe. Home.


	2. Warmth Prompt: Light Guides You Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Hanukkah since Alex's return to Earth, and Ky's first Hanukkah ever. Enter Maggie being adorable and perceptive, and soft triad moments.
> 
> Inspired by directorsanvers Director Sanvers seasonal event! Had no intention of doing this, but the first prompt was "First Time Lighting the Menorah" which paralleled with one of my favourite scenes from How Monsters are Made, and coincided with a request from A03 user blemt!

Maggie was _ready_ this year. No amount of Catholic upbringing was going to stop her from supporting her sister. After last year, and Winn’s phone call, and Kara’s lonely, heartbroken eyes, Maggie was _ready_.

She went home after that first night and armed herself with google (Hanukkah? Chanuka? Hanukah? Unclear).

She learnt it was celebrated for eight nights – so she and Lucy cleared their evenings, called in favors, and spent all eight nights with Kara. Listened to her sing and watched her light the menorah. Held her hand and dried her tears and let her talk about Alex. Alex and this holiday and how she was always, _always_ there. Except this year. Because Alex was lost in space.

She learnt that it is known as the festival of lights. Which is why the Danvers went all out for it. When Kara was new and foreign and lost, she could understand this. A holiday around light, even if it wasn’t Rao. It was something she could begin to understand. Begin to connect to.

She learnt that its history concerned a revolt, a theme in Jewish history she noticed in her midnight research. And there was also a taking of a temple which was cleansed, and a small amount of oil that burned for eight nights.

She learnt that it involved deep fried foods like latkes (a fantastic looking hash brown?) and sufganiyot (jelly filled donuts?). Which only further explained why the Danvers made it central to their celebration; Kara would certainly be on board with that menu. Which is why she spent her afternoon off on the 8th day shopping and cooking. When she presented it to Kara, the Kryptonian hugged her harder than she had in months.

Finally, she learnt it did not sit on a particular day of the year, moving with a foreign calendar. Only then, at around 1am, did Lucy stir. She froze, fingers hovering over her online planner. But it was too late, Lucy was already rolling onto an elbow to squint at her screen. Just as she was about to apologize, close the computer and give the light sleeper her darkness back, Lucy pressed a kiss to her bare thigh. “Put it on our shared calendar too.” Then she dropped her head, burying her eyes against her pillow and drifted back to sleep. So, Maggie quickly pulled up the 2018 dates and added them.

So, she was ready. Ready to be there for Kara, her sister. Ready to hold her hand, and remind her that Alex was there in spirit, if not body. Ready to be her family – ‘cause they already were.

Funnily enough, what she was not ready for was Alex actually being _back_.

Nor was she ready not be the least experienced person present.

Ky looked about ready to phase through the floor. Her hands were jammed in her pockets, shoulders hunched. And every few minutes she would glance out the window, eyeing the rapidly vanishing sunset painting the sky in a warm glow.

She approached with caution. “Mija,” she placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, waiting for dark eyes to meet hers. Even after almost a year, the sight of Alex’s eyes in her daughter stuttered her heart. “What’s wrong?”

Not that she didn’t know what’s up. Not that she couldn’t read it all over the fifteen-year-olds face. In her posture. In the set of her jaw, so similar to Lucy when she is claiming to be ‘ _fine’._ The whole thing made her stomach swoop, just a little. Just enough that she was fighting a smile, despite the kid’s discomfort.

“Nothin’,” and the traditional shrug did nothing to convince the Detective.

Moving around to stand at her side, she let her hand slide to the back of her neck. Gentle fingers scratched at the nape, feeling the short hairs there. The gesture was comforting enough that some tension seeped out of her shoulders. “You worried you’re gonna mess something up?”

Another shrug. “Maybe.” Definitely.

“You know,” she tugged them back a step, letting a chattering Kara and Winn pass with supplies. Bringing them over to the waiting Alex, who had Lucy pressed to her side, tucked under her bionic. “I did this with Kara last year.”

Ky jerked her head up at her. “Really?”

“Yep,” she smiled, watching as Lucy leaned up to press an affectionate kiss to the side of Alex’s neck, right over her scar.

“How was it?”

Taking a breath, she thought back to the last first day of this holiday.

From Winn’s water explanation: _“I don’t know if you guys know, but tonight’s Hanukkah… which is kinda a thing for the Danvers.”_

To Kara’s: _“She’s gonna miss sunset… She’s never missed a lighting._ ”

All the way to Maggie’s own hesitant offer: _“I know it’s not the same, and I don’t know the first thing about Hanukkah, but me and Lucy can do the lighting with you?”_

“It was hard, without your mom,” Alex who was laughing at Kara’s mock disgust, making a face at Lucy’s intimate position. Alex who swatted at Winn when he tried to fix her kippah. Who never released Lucy from her arms, metal fingers tangled in the hem of her shirt. “But… nice? Cathartic at least. And it’s not scary, really,” she knocked their temples together, smiling when Ky automatically smiled back. “If my Catholic raised ass can manage to not screw it up, you’ll be fine.”

The teenager studied her a moment, biting the inside of her lip.

“It’s pretty simple really, nothing compared your explanation of Martian Life Day,” when Ky still looked unconvinced she smiled. Tugged until the teenager was properly against her side, arm sliding to wrap over her shoulders. Ducking her head, she created an artificial sense of secrecy, acutely aware of Ky’s insecurity. “Seriously, kid. You’ll be good. Alex’ll light the middle candle on the menorah. They’ll say a blessing in Hebrew which you don’t have’ta understand. Then light the first candle, for the first night. Then we’ll let it burn for half an hour.”

Alex had already explained this last week at dinner – Maggie knew Ky _knew_ all of this. And that Ky knew she didn’t have to be here if she didn’t want. At no point did Alex insist she attend if she was uncomfortable. But Maggie also knew she was scared of disappointing her mom. Her aunt. Hell, even her and Lucy. Scared she would mess it up somehow – interfere in a Danvers family tradition that pre-dated her arrival. Pre-dated her adoption. Pre-dated her ‘invasion’ of their lives.

Similar to how Maggie felt about just about everything when she moved in with her tía. Like an unwelcome, unavoidable guest, intruding on entrenched family traditions. She empathized, and figured Ky would benefit from an outsider explanation. Someone also pretty new to the whole thing, breaking it down into laymen’s terms. Assuring her that it would be fine, that _if I can do it, you sure as hell can_.

Based on how Ky finally relaxed under her arm, she was right.

“Cool,” the nod was less convincing, but it made Maggie stifle a chuckle nonetheless. “Let’s do this.” ‘Cause the sun was setting, the last rays of red sliding out of the windows in Kara’s apartment. 

Maggie led the teenager over just as Lucy pulled away from their girlfriend, pressing a final kiss to her cheek. Giving Alex a little space to do the last of the setting up, she stepped over to stand at Maggie’s side, grinning a little at the sight of Ky tucked under her arm. Before she turned to take her place next to her girlfriend, she stuck her tongue out at her- the kid.

Ky stuck hers out back. Because they were a mature family.

Smiling, a new kind of happiness swelled in Maggie’s chest; Lucy tangling their fingers, pressing her cheek to the corner of her shoulder; Winn rocking on his heels, the shy discomfort from their invitation gone in the face of sharing in their traditions; Kara, Sunny Danvers smile on full display, eyes locked on her sister; and Alex.

Alex just standing there. The last of the sun washed her face in warmth, painted her skin and reflected in her eyes, as she patiently waited her turn, fingers rotating the lighter. Hair soft and curling down one side of her head, free hand tangled in her sweater. Here. Home. Safe.

And now turning to share a quick, soft, _warm_ smile with her little family; sweeping from Ky under Maggie’s arm, hands still jammed in pockets but eyes curious instead of scared. Lucy pressed into Maggie’s side with gentle happy eyes. And Maggie, at the center, holding their girls against her, both dimples popping when whiskey eyes met hers.

Then, she winked, and turned to the other members of the party. Giving a quick nod, just as the sun sank over the horizon, she flicked the lighter, holding it over the shamash.

As one, Alex, Kara and Winn started to sing (Winn only _slightly_ out of time, still reaffirming familiarity). 

_Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b-mitzvotav, v-tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah._

_Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, she-asah nisim la-avoteinu v-imoteinu ba- yamim ha-heim ba-z’man ha-zeh._

[…]

Maggie was right – which, annoyingly, she normally was – she _didn’t_ have to understand what was going on. She knew four languages, but Hebrew was not one. Foreign words rang unfamiliar in her ear, but they were beautiful. Especially with Kara singing.

It was over pretty quick too. Not much room for her imagined blunder to even occur. The final line held for a moment, the light flickering brightly in the dark room.

_Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, shehecheyanu v-ki’y’manu v-higianu la-z’man ha-zeh._

It was… captivating. She didn’t understand the tradition or culture or attachment, but standing in a room with her family, everyone focused on a single point of brightness… her stomach swooped unexpectedly. Warmth and safety clambered in her throat. Her mom’s presence at the center of the room. Her aunt and (?) uncle standing across from her. Maggie’s familiar and safe weight over her shoulder, Lucy just to her side.

It was… family. Home.

Warm.

She loved it. She decided that this, this is what made everything they’d been through make sense. The exportation, the Exodus, the raids and wars and _fighting._ Being able to stand here, in this room, with these people she loved. These people that loved _her._

She might not understand the intricacies of this dya, but she understood this.

This is what family was.

Then Alex was turning, holding out a hand to her kid. Maggie gave a final squeeze of her shoulder, before releasing. Letting the teenager slip easily over to her mom, let Alex palm the back of her head. She smiled and shook her skull a little, Ky biting back at smile at the familiar gesture, nose wrinkling against her will. Then she pulled, tugging her daughter to stand a little in front, right before the flickering lights.

[…]

For thirty minutes, the small mottled family of misfits stood around, soft murmuring never enough to break the calm.

Ky eventually drifted over to her aunt, settling on the couch with Winn. Winn, who had lost this side of his heritage with his mother’s disappearance; who Alex had approached, quiet and gentle, the week before and asked if he’d like to join. Told him she’d be honored if he did.

But the triad remained in front of the menorah.

They watched it burn for the full thirty minutes. Lucy and Maggie recognizing that this was more than just any first day of Hanukkah for the Captain, Agent, mother and sister. This was the first day of Hanukkah she’d had in four years, and it was surrounded by people she loved. Things she thought she’d lost the day she left Earth

But now she had it and more. Maggie pressed to her front, fingers skirting along the arm around her waist, holding her flush against her. Lucy, standing just behind the pair, fingers sweeping up and down the back of Alex’s sweater, along the lines of her hidden tattoo.

The only words Alex managed, really, were whispered so quiet that only they could hear. Dark eyes closed as she basked in their presence. In the moment. The “thank you,” was breathed into the space like this was the most sacred gift she’d ever received. And, honestly, it was. Because, no matter the years of pain and struggle and hurt, they found their way here. To this.

Warm. Safe. Home.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you're subscribed to this fic and received multiple emails - I didn't intend to post this at 1am, completely unedited, but I have now gone back and (hopefully) fixed my mistakes.
> 
> For the record, I am actually Jewish, though I've been non-practicing for a while now, so tend to identify as culturally Jewish. Any mistakes, please let me know - seriously, this is the kinda thing I'd love to be better educated on.


	3. Shared Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the wall of constellations came to be in Captain Danver's quarters.

It had started as a thought.

When she first started in the ship, things had been rough. She wasn’t trusted – she was despised in most cases. The only reason she was tolerated is because Lyron, for all his faults, was not a dumb man. He knew what a bioengineer was worth on this ship. But just because she was worth more alive, did not mean that they made life easy.

In fact, several made it their mission to punish her. For being human. For being DEO. For not saving them. For being part of an organization that tried to save them. It didn’t matter – she was the symbol of their pain and they had no other outlet.

The rope burns from when they’d dragged her through the halls of the ship that first week healed a lot faster than the nightmares of being beaten to death.

But even after that, when she was given permission to live, life was not easy. While there were plenty of communal and individual quarters on both Exodus ships, she was given a bunk in the infirmary until the battle with the Scralkils. A bunk and a guard, who, depending on the individual, would either ignore her entirely or enjoy her rations. But she didn’t complain. She ate what was left and tried to sleep through the moaning of her injured and dying patients.

The only thing that made the ship livable, enjoyable, were the moments she stole in front of a window. Her father, even now when the thought of him burned her throat, had instilled in her a love of the stars. Actually, no. She changed her mind. Her _sister_ instilled in her a love of stars; because she could touch them; because they tried to save a boy who loved them; because Kara would spend nights upon nights when she first came to live with them drawing the Kryptonian night sky, so absolutely terrified of forgetting them. So terrified that Alex eventually sat down and asked her to teach them to her. So even if she forgot, her sister would always be there to remind her.

So, the stolen moments where she could _see_ space – where the reality of where she was visible. Those where the moments that made her days livable.

When she graduated from the lower rungs of the hierarchy and had been given the room closest to the infirmary, she’d laid up at night thinking about it. She would stare into the darkness and try and imagine the Earth night sky. Then try and imagine the Kryptonian version. Naming the constellations and patterns until she was sure that she remembered them correctly.

Then Ky started to crash in her quarters – crawling into her single bed after the night cycle began. Silent, terrified, alone, she’d press herself into Alex’s chest and tremble. So, Alex would hold her, and list the planets until she fell asleep.

When they gave in, and moved another single bed into the room, that’s when the thought started. Ky asked about the stars, something science-y and technical, and she found herself rattling off the boring answer – the correct answer, but the answer without the magic.

That kept her up at night. Even though Ky was satisfied. Alex felt she’d missed an opportunity – missed her chance to help this kid (her kid, though she didn’t know it yet) appreciate the wonders of the sky.

Then she’d drawn it. Stolen some paper and chalk and tried to map the sky out. Every night, while she waited for Ky’s breathing to even out, she would sketch what she saw in her mind’s eye. Carefully sometimes, thinking about the exact distance between the stars, and where the planets would intersect. Other times hurried, a rush to get out a particular pattern before it vanished like smoke.

Eventually, the thought spanned dozens of slips of paper – all different sizes and shapes. Torn from infirmary documents and stolen from kitchen labels.

It was Ky that suggested she find a bigger canvas. That’s when the thought spun out of control.

Ky came back from her Earth Physics class to find her not-mom (yet) shoving all the furniture out of the way. Carefully, painstakingly, pressing a pen she must have nicked from a docking point into the wall. Each star was selected, the distance between them measured.

Eventually, she ran out of room on the lower parts of the wall. Then the chair became inadequate to reach the upper areas, so Ky was enlisted. She tried to beg off, claiming she’d ruin what had turned into a masterpiece. Tried to explain that she was no good at this kind of stuff, arty stuff. That she was no good at all.

So, Alex had sat her down on the edge of her bed and kneeled in front of her, hands on either side of her face. Making sure she would hear.

“You are a fantastic kid, Ky. You are smart and funny and talented and there is nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it,” which had achieved nothing but make the 11-year-old’s eyes water. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“You just care about this so much – I don’t wanna ruin it,” she’d whispered back, fingers digging into the corners of the too thin mattress.

Alex had bitten her lip, thinking back to Kara. Thinking about how after Alex had memorized the entire Kryptonian sky, Kara had tentatively asked if she knew anything about Earth’s – if they could share each other’s worlds. She thought about them sneaking out of their bedroom window (which Kara would break on her way back in) so she could explain Earth constellations. So, she could point out each one, and tell the stories associated with them, and watch Kara genuinely, truly, care about something that made her own mind whirl in excitement.

“Did you know, I have a sister?” Ky had just shaken her head, eyes still wet around the edges. “When she was about your age, she came to live with us. See, she’d lost her world and was all alone, so we took her in. She became my family,” Ky’s eyes widened, hope at some kind of future lighting in her eyes. “But she didn’t speak my language, and she had a different night sky. So, we didn’t know the same stars or constellations – we would disagree on what this should look like,” she tipped her head towards the wall in question but did not break eye contact.

“But that’s what made us close – even though we didn’t share the same sky, or the same language, or the same culture – we cared about the sky just the same. It was something we could do together. Drawing it, teaching each other, even when we made mistakes, _that_ was the part that mattered.”

Pausing again, Alex leaned rubbed her thumb under the girl’s eye. “You never have to do something you don’t feel comfortable doing, Ky. I certainly won’t make you – but if you want, I can teach you, about the sky I grew up under. And then, while we try to get home, we can learn about all the new ones we see along the way, together. If that sounds like something you’d be interested in?”

Ky had hesitated, biting her lip, but not looking away from the older women’s eyes. The women who looked after her, protected her, loved her even though she wasn’t worth loving. She thought about how she always taught her things with patience, and never got upset when she got stuff wrong. She thought about how excited she got when she looked out the windows and decided that she wanted to share that love too.

“Okay,” she’d finally responded, relaxing under Alex’s soft fingers. “But can you teach me your sister’s sky as well?”

Alex had bitten her lip against her tears. Had smiled around her heartache – a different kind of love unraveling in her chest faster then she could stop it. “I think she’d love that.” 


End file.
